


The Two Fists of Hydra

by Gaia_bing



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bearded Steve Rogers, Both Steve and Bucky are Winter Soldiers, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Drama, Hydra, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sexy Times, The Avengers are also Winter Soldiers, fanfic expansion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_bing/pseuds/Gaia_bing
Summary: Or, how the Kapitan and the Soldat met, fell in love and despite it all, kept their hush-hush relationship going for over half-a-century.





	1. 1944.

**Author's Note:**

> So somebody asked me to turn my previous drabble, "The Kapitan and the Soldat", into a full blown fanfic...
> 
> Even if it's just for that one person, I'm going to do it. Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Their backgrounds were the same.

  
Two Brooklyn-born-and-raised boys, both hotheaded, both living with idealistic eyes and dreams about the world.  
Both enlisted in the army in their early twenties. One to blend in perfectly inside a group, the other to lead another one to victory, to glory and everything else that came along with it.

  
Their takings were slightly different.

  
One had been picked up at the bottom of a mountain, blood seeping from where had been once an arm. He'd been dragged by the feet to the nearby base, painting the white sliding underneath him a lovely shade of red.

  
The other had been picked up at the bottom of an ocean, only sleeping when he'd should have been dead. He'd been dragged by an helicopter to the nearby base, leaving behind a plane filled with bombs that should have painted New York a lovely shade of red.

  
But in the end, it didn't matter where they came from or how they got there.

  
The important thing was: in a matter of under six months, Hydra had found what they'd been looking for...  
Two fighters,

  
Two weapons,

  
...two puppets.

  
And Arnim Zola grinned as he saw his brand new Winter Soldier toys laying before him...

  
Ready for instructions,

  
Ready for killing,

  
...ready to comply.


	2. First meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soldat and the Kapitan see each other for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks to all of you guys for the response the premise and the first chapter of this little adventure brought. I'm almost scared to not meet your expectations. Hope I do well enough. *blushes*
> 
> Anyway, here's the second chapter! :)

They were brought into the room with chains around their necks, like a couple of dogs trying to be contained so they wouldn't bite.

  
They were pushed forcefully down a couple of metal tables and they stared up straight ahead, unblinking, unbreathing,

  
Unthinking.

  
"Ah, our beautiful, beautiful new creations." Armin Zola began, adjusting the small glasses on the top of his nose.

  
He made his way toward the middle of the two tables.

  
"You two shall become the new Fists of Hydra. Nothing will stand in your way. Nothing will bring you down. Nothing will stop you. And so therefore, nothing will stop us." he said.

  
The two warriors lay motionless, still staring ahead, as if they'd heard nothing, but also assimilating everything the portly man had just said.

  
"Soldat and Kapitan, take a good, long look at who is to be your working partner from now on." the man above them ordered.

  
In any other world, in any other time, with any other person, this simple phrase wouldn't have changed anything.

  
But right here, in this moment, as the two men laying on different steel tables turned their heads...

  
This simple phrase changed everything.

  
As the newly baptized Soldat and Kapitan really saw each other for the first time.

 

And unbeknown to Armin Zola, to Hydra, to each other and even to themselves...

 

They found themselves gasping, 

 

They found themselves blinking,

 

And, most lethally...

 

They found themselves feeling.


	3. Maybe we're allowed to be human after all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first words spoken between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here! Hope it meets you guys expectations. :)

It was while sitting in the plane that was leading them to their very first mission together, that they uttered their very first words to each other.

  
At first, when they got in, all they could do was look at each other. The two of them, all alone in the back, like the props that they were, while the Hydra personnel that were just along for the ride and not for the mission, were all sitting in the front of the plane, like the people that they were. Neither Winter Soldier, that was what Armin Zola had also baptized their kind, wanted the first to utter something, to start a conversation with the other.

  
And really, why would they speak to each other? The Soldat and the Kapitan were just a bunch of coordinated weapons being used to exterminate whatever vermin Hydra deemed ready to be eliminated.

  
The Fists of Hydra weren't meant to be chums, or pals, or friends,

  
Or even human beings...

  
And yet, a wayward sun-ray coming from the plane window that collided with the grey of the Soldat's left arm made the Kapitan sit a bit more upright in his seat and clearing his throat, he uttered in a hoarse voice, like it hadn't been used in a very long while, or had actually previously been used, but onto its limit:

  
"So, what's with the metal arm?"

  
The Soldat, looking down at his appendage, raised his head back to stare at his new partner and with an equally rugged voice, shrugged his shoulders and responded:

  
"I don't know."

  
He nodded once at the blond and bearded man's direction and was the one that asked this time:

  
"And you, what's with the Kapitan name?"

  
The man in question, looking at the long-haired one sitting before him, repeated the latter's previous motion and response, by shrugging his shoulders and uttering in return:

  
"I don't know."

And there, inside that small plane that was taking them to their very first mission together, the two Winter Soldiers broke the first of the many, _many_ cardinal Hydra rules that they'd end up breaking from then on:

  
They shared a smile.


	4. Gift giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different kind of gifts are exchanged and rules are further broken.

Their first mission together was a frank success.

  
Twenty people killed between the two, in a matter of five minutes, with no witnesses?

  
Yeah, it was indeed a success.

  
And the next mission afterwards and afterwards and afterwards all wielded the same results.

  
Armin Zola felt proud, therefore Hydra felt proud.

  
As long as they stayed faithful to the cause, everything would be fine and dandy.

  
But what did that mean, in concrete fashion, for the celebrated heroes of the organization's cause?

  
More and more leeway, freedom and goodies.

  
Just like the one the Kapitan had given to his partner just now.

  
"What is this?" the Soldat asked, looking down at the book that had been tossed in his hands the second the other man had stepped into his living quarters.

  
The bearded blond man smiled as he took a seat next to the long-haired one.

  
" _Romeo and Juliet_ , by Shakespeare. You always seem so bored when we travel to our missions, so I figured, why not give my brother-in-arm-for-over-seven-months-now something to read in the back, while our handlers are chatting in the front?" he explained.

  
"Really? It's for me? But I don't have anything for you!" the Soldat exclaimed, looking around helplessly, as if a gift for his partner would suddenly materialize if he looked hard enough.

  
A warm hand on his metallic shoulder made him stop squirming in his seat.

  
The Kapitan was suddenly a whole lot closer to the Soldat than just a few seconds earlier. "You don't need to get me a gift, just having you around is welcome enough."

  
The Soldat blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the jolt he felt pass his lungs and giving his partner a small smile, he patted the fingers on the top of his arm.

  
"I'm going to give you something back, this I promise you." he responded, looking at Kapitan in the eye.  
If the tension between them could be cut at this particular moment, it'd be with a turkey knife.

  
Coughing suddenly and removing his hand away, the Kapitan took a few steps back and said in a trying-to-be-nonchalant voice: "Well, I don't know about you, but I really am starving. What do you say we go fetch something from Mrs. Kopatchev down the hall?"

  
The Soldat smiled even wider. Mrs. Kopatchev was indeed a great cook and provided for all of Hydra. And just recently, that also now included the two of them.

  
"'Sounds great to me." he answered and with that, the two partners went on their way.

  
And so, the situation stayed like this. They never made mention of the moment they shared in the Soldat's quarters and things went on like nothing had happened.

  
And as try as he might, the Soldat couldn't think of anything to give back to his partner, as a token of his appreciation for the gift that had been bestowed upon him.

 

For being his partner.

For being his better half.

For making him feel so...

...

  
No, the Soldat didn't have anything to give the Kapitan,

  
That is, until five months later...

  
************************

  
"Soldat!" the Kapitan screamed and he felt himself gasping as he caught the slumping body in his arms.

  
This had been an almost routine mission.

  
Land in Zurich, kill the representatives that were holding a meeting there, hop back on the oncoming ride back and then home sweet home.

  
It'd gone swimmingly for about two/thirds of the way. They'd arrived at the perimeter, had eliminated the targets and would have gone to the retrieval point...

  
If only they'd spotted the well-hidden bodyguards that had been standing on the roof and had witnessed the entire thing.

  
And one of them had a gun,

  
And the gun had been aimed at one half of the Fists of Hydra,

  
And so, the other half did the only thing he could do, the only thing he was meant to do...

  
He took the bullet for him.

  
The Soldat smiled at his partner, glassy eyes looking at him as he slurred out:

  
"Huh. Well, 'looks like we're even in the gift-giving department, aren't we?", before losing consciousness.

  
Blood was overflowing from the long-haired man's stomach wound.

  
The Kapitan felt himself begin to panic as he slowly led the body of his partner onto the grassy ground underneath them both.  
What to do, what to do?

  
He knew the rules Hydra went by, they had been indoctrinated inside his brain again and again and again.

  
He most importantly knew the one that was the most significant, the one thing that must be placed above everything else:

  
The mission is always first, you are always second.

  
He couldn't leave the mission unfinished.

  
Not when the man that had tried to shoot him and that had hit his partner instead was on the loose.

  
There had been no blemishes nor hick-ups in both of their resumes until now. If something went to tarnish the portfolio that they'd gathered over the past year, they'd both be right back where they'd started.

  
Maybe even worse...

  
But, he also couldn't leave the Soldat to die out here...

  
Not when he was... not when he hadn't...

  
And right at this moment, he broke the second most important rules that existed inside Hydra, as he gave up the mission and called for the retrieval to come to him this time around:

  
Always, _always_ follow the thing that resides in the middle of your head and never, _ever_ follow the thing that resides in the middle of your chest.


	5. Fate worse than death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truths and Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, things get a bit steamy in here! :D

Armin Zola was shaking his head.

  
"This is such a shame." he tssked as he looked at the Sodat, who was breathing slowly in and out while laying inside the operating room.

  
He turned toward the Kapitan, shaking his head disapprovingly once more.

  
"Things were going so well with the two of you. Not one mistakes and then all of a sudden, _"Poof!"_ you make fools of yourselves twice in one day. Care to explain?" he asked with an angry glare, crossing his stubbly arms over his large chest.

  
The bearded man looked down at the floor, swallowing nervously.

  
What could he say? What should he say?

  
He knew he could blame everything on his partner. He could tell Zola that the failed mission was entirely the Soldat's fault and he could get away scott free, while the other man would take the blunt of the punishment an unsuccessful Hydra trek entailed.

  
But, looking up at the long-haired man once more, he knew he just couldn't do that.

  
And so:

  
"Everything is my fault, sir. The Soldat did nothing wrong. I'm to blame for him getting shot and for the mission getting aborted, not him."

  
Armin seemed to take the information in, as he nodded his head. This, the Kapitan had expected.

  
What he hadn't expected however was the hard slap to the side of the face that followed.

  
"You fucking son of a bitch! Don't you realize what you did? What you almost cost us? You're goddamn lucky that there were other Hydra soldiers in the vicinity to where you were to take care of the business you _selfishly_ left behind." Zola spat out, his eyes bulging out, the skin on his pudgy face rapidly turning red.

  
He snapped his fingers and two beefy men came to pick the fallen Winter Soldier up from the floor. He pointed at the recuperating man on the small hospital bed beside him.

  
"I'm going to wait until he gets back on his feet to decide what to do with you. I want to show him what happens when someone abandons our cause and thinks only of themselves. Until then, you are not to leave your quarters under any circumstances, understood?" he growled out, his face only millimeters away from the blond.

  
The Kapitan spit out and nodding, he uttered back with his bloody mouth:

  
_"Loud and clear."_

  
*******************

  
It was about a week later that the Kapitan heard about the Soldat once again.

  
Actually, it was the Soldat himself that showed up in the middle of the night, still wearing his hospital gown, in what had pretty much become the Kapitan's jail cell, disturbing him from his few hours of sleep by grabbing him harshly by his shoulders and pinning against the nearby wall, the heavy metal of the long-haired man's arm against the Kapitan's throat making breathing quite difficult for him.

  
"Well, hello to you too. Great to see you back on your feet so soon! How have you been?" the blond man said with fake enthusiasm, but the smile that he'd tried to make quickly fell back down the second he saw the other man's deadly glare.

  
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" the Soldat hissed. "What the hell was going on inside that stupid brain of yours for you to take all the blame for what happened in Zurich?" He released his partner, but still angrily stared in his eyes and poked at the taller   chest in front of him as he added: "Don't you know that anyone that fucks up a mission, even in the slightest, is pretty much guaranteed death?"

  
The Kapitan crossed his arms and was now the one glaring at the other man. "Well, the mission wouldn't have gotten fucked up, if somebody I know hadn't decided to become the hero of the hour and hadn't turned himself into a goddamn bullet shish-kebab!" he responded, rapidly tapping his foot on the top of the hard tiles that consisted his quarter's floor.

  
"Well, I wouldn't had have to turn myself into a goddamn bullet shish-kebab, if you'd look behind you from time to time and I didn't have to always watch your six!"" the Soldat retorted, a little bit louder.

  
"Oh, yeah? Well it ain't your damn job to always watch my so-called six!" The bearded man answered, the one now jabbing his index finger at the smaller chest in front of him.

  
"And it ain't your job to always save my goddamn life!" the long-haired one said as he once again poked the Kapitan's muscled torso.

  
"Really, why didn't you leave me out there to die?" he added and getting exasperated even more, what had been another planned poke turned into a shove.

  
"And why didn't you leave _me_ out there to die?" the Kapitan growled and shoved back.

  
Their faces and bodies were now mere inches apart.

  
Both were breathing rapidly, almost as fast as the organ inside their chest.

  
The same one that had made them seemingly lose their minds over each other, ever since the moment their eyes first met.

  
The same one that made their eyes soften and the venom inside their voice seemingly disappear.

  
The same one that made them realize the reason they'd always watch sixes and save lives.

  
The same one that made them utter out:

  
"I did it because you're my Kapitan."

  
"And I did it because you're my Soldat."

  
And finally, the same one that made them collide together into a fierce kiss and embrace, all teeth and tongues and nails and gasps and opening up clothes and laying down on the floor and tearing out underwear and taking inside their mouth what was most desired and leaving the other a heaving, spilled out and, for a single moment, a utterly blissful, mess.

  
****************

  
They held each other for a long time afterwards, not knowing what to say, not wanting to disturb the small piece of heaven that had somehow been given to them both.

  
And it was thinking of heaven that made the Soldat finally confess in a hushed voice:

  
"When I woke up yesterday morning, I told Zola that everything that happened in the mission was my fault and that you had nothing to be blamed for."

  
Realizing the gravity of what had just been said, the Kapitan tightened his hold on the man in his arms.

  
"Do you have a brain as stupid as mine?" he said, trying to make light of the situation.

  
The Soldat chuckled wetly as he lightly traced the biceps wrapped around his body and responded: "Yeah and probably even more so."

  
The first ray of sunlight onto the floor was what made the long-haired man finally disentangle himself from the warmth he'd allowed himself to receive, even just for a brief moment.

  
The Kapitan found himself almost grieving the emptiness that now resided between his arms and, as the pair slowly got up, they also slowly turned toward the other.

  
"Everything's going to be okay." tried to reassure the man in the hospital gown.

 

Their foreheads were pressed together.

  
"Yeah, it's going to be alright." retorted the one in redone pants and re-worn shirt.

  
One last small peck, one last small smile and one last small look were all given.

  
And the Soldat left the Kapitan inside his living quarters to go back to the recuperating room he'd slipped out from, just as dawn fell upon what was waiting for the both of them.

  
**********************

  
And what was waiting for them both wasn't death after all.

  
But,

  
_"...Rusted."_

  
Really,

  
_"Seventeen."_

  
Was,

  
_"Daybreak."_

  
This,

  
_"Furnace._ "

  
A,

  
_"Nine."_

  
Better,

  
_"Benign."_

  
Fate,

  
_"Homecoming."_

  
Than,

  
_"One."_

  
Death?

  
_"Freight Car."_


	6. If my heart's dear love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has been forgotten can always be remembered.

Many changes were made after the Winter Soldiers were reprogrammed.

  
New base: goodbye the Alps, hello Siberia.

  
New chief: goodbye Armin Zola, hello some anonymous chairman, too busy to leave the high-life out there to oversee everyday operations in here.

  
New accommodations: goodbye three hot meals a day and a nice room to leisure in, hello cold sandwiches here and there and sleeping on the floor.

  
And finally, The New Fists of Hydra: goodbye whatever friendship/any kind of relationship that had existed between the two once upon a time,

  
Hello the ruthless, robotic killers that they should have been from the very beginning.

  
And, after all, what else could they be? Hydra's puppets couldn't think nor feel anything.

  
The ice that had frozen their bodies six months earlier and the electric currents that had fried their heads three months after that had all made sure it stayed that way.

  
But of course, the one thing that had been left untouched through all of this, their unlikely savior, was still beating inside their respective chest.

  
********************

  
Once again, it had been a routine mission, this time happening in Budapest.

  
They had been commanded to eliminate a well-respected professor and had done sowith ease, his blood slowly dripping from where had been once his head, onto the wooden floor of his well-built-office.

  
The long-haired part of the Fists of Hydra was busy cleaning up his weapon of choice, a long, well sharpened machete, when he noticed the short-haired part of the pair looking at something with what looked like curious eyes.

  
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

  
"...I don't know, actually."

  
These were the first words the two of them had exchanged ever since they first laid eyes on each other three months earlier...or had it been before that?

Had they talked before that?

  
For the life of him, the man with the metal arm couldn't remember.

  
His head suddenly felt a hundred pound heavier and he rapidly shook off the fog that had seemingly taken over his mind. He looked at the other man, who was busy reaching over and taking out a book out of the shelf that he'd been standing in front of for the better part of five minutes.

  
"Hey, put that back! We don't know when anyone's going to come looking for the target, so we better get the hell out of here before somebody notices us!" he exclaimed, dropping his large knife onto the floor and standing up.

  
The bearded man didn't respond and simply stared at the book that was now residing inside his large hands.

  
"Uh, _Romeo and Juliet_ , by Shakespeare." he exclaimed as he read the title.

  
The man in front of the bookshelf suddenly stopped himself. Did he just heard himself chuckle? Since when did Winter Soldiers chuckled? Since when did Winter Soldiers display any kind of emotions?

  
And, as he looked at his partner, how long had the long-haired man been standing there looking at him with an slightly agape mouth?

  
"What did you just say?" the other man asked, taking an unnoticed step closer.

  
Pointing at the book, the blond responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world: " _Romeo and Juliet_ , by Shakespeare, it's the title of this thing."

  
He looked down once more and found himself quirking one side of his mouth in an upward position as he began to flip the pages. He wondered out loud: "Man, it feels like an eternity since I've read that play! There was this part that I used to be able to say out loud at the drop of a hat...."

  
Landing on the right passage, his lips rose up even higher as he began to recite:

  
_"By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am:_  
_My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,_  
_Because it is an enemy to thee;_  
_Had I it written, I would tear the word."_  
_My ears have not yet-"_  
  
"...drunk a hundred words."

  
The blond haired man looked up once again, the one now with a slight agape mouth.

  
"What did you just say?" he said as he repeated an earlier question that had been directed at him.

  
The man in front of him didn't respond, he simply continued on as if he couldn't hear anything...

Anything but the blood pumping rapidly inside his heart.

 _"Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:_  
_Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?"_

...

  
_"Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike."_ continued the short-haired man, not staring at the text in his hands anymore, only having eyes for the light that seemed to reflect inside the other man's.

  
He was the one that took an unnoticed step just now.

  
They each looked at each other, as if it was the very first time they'd noticed one another and they began to say the ancient text out loud in a more earnest manner.

  
_"How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?_  
_The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,_  
_And the place death, considering who thou art,_  
_If any of my kinsmen find thee here."_

  
With these words, one half of the Fists of Hydra was now standing at the center of the room.

 

 _"With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;_  
_For stony limits cannot hold love out,_  
_And what love can do that dares love attempt;_  
_Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me."_

 

And with these words, the other half was now standing there too.

  
The book slowly slipped out of the short-haired man's fingers and gently dropped onto the wooden office floor.

  
"I gave you that book once, didn't I?" he whispered.

  
"Yeah and it was the greatest gift I've ever received." whispered back the long-haired one. He swallowed thickly as he added:

"And I gave you my life once, didn't I?"

  
The tallest of the two found his whole mouth rising up this time around and he answered: "Yeah and it was the greatest gift I've ever received."

And just like that, the fog was cleared...

  
_"...Kapitan?"_

  
The feelings returned...

  
_"...Soldat?"_

  
And the former robotic, ruthless Hydra puppets were in each other's arms once more.

  
*****************

  
"I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it to you before it was too late." were the first words breathed out between the two of them, as they were resting completely nude on the soft-feeling rug, that had just bared witness to hours upon hours of reunited Winter Soldiers sex.

  
They were face-to-face this time around, the Soldat sitting comfortably inside the Kapitan's lap, both of their heads on each other's sturdy shoulder, both of their hands carding through the other's soft hair, in what had been once a well-built office of what they'd thought had been once a well-respected professor.

Why no one came to the door to check on the target or to make a noise complaint, nobody would ever know.

  
The Kapitan tenderly smiled as his fingers slowly caressed his other half's back. "I'm sorry too and I love you as well." he murmured back.

  
Jerking his head back, the Soldat cupped his lover's face inside both of his hands as he asked: "How could I forget this? How could I forget the best damn thing that's ever happened to me?"

  
Returning the gesture, the Kapitan asked back: "And how could I forget what I feel when you're looking at me like that?"

  
Just like it seemed it had happened forever ago, they pressed their foreheads together and closed their eyes.

  
"Hydra."

  
"Yeah. 'Turns out there was actually something that they could do to us that was worse than Dying. And that's Forgetting."

  
The Soldat raised his head back once more.

  
"You know they're going to do it to us again and again. And again and again and again, just to be sure we're being kept in line."

  
Resolve painted the Kapitan's features as he replied:

  
"Well then, we fight back. We find a way to remember. If we can do it once, we can do it again and again. And again and again and again."

  
The long-haired man was the one chuckling now as gave his lover a tender kiss and laid his head back down on the shoulder that had been waiting for him this whole time.

  
" **Fuck Hydra**." he finally said, closing his eyes.

  
The Kapitan grinned against the warm sheet of metal that was resting upon his cheek.

  
"Yeah. **Fuck Hydra**."


	7. The revolution will not be televised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memories shall return and the ice shall burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the events of this story right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11453499 come into play in this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

So, the question still left was: how could the Kapitan and the Soldat fight back if they kept being put back on ice every single time Hydra was done with them, only to getting wiped clean every single time it needed them once more?

  
They found the solution (or rather, the solution found them) when they each woke up for the first time since the events of Budapest.

  
Something fell out of their fatigues, that had seemed to have been lodged between the cloth of their shirt and the beating inside their chest.

  
A torn out piece of paper had been waiting for each of them, with four words scribbled in two distinct, yet familiar writing styles:

  
_"You are my Kapitan."_

  
_"You are my Soldat."_

  
They then had looked at each other...

  
It'd been like reaching the surface after being an eternity under water.

  
It'd been like seeing the light after being trapped in darkness since forever.

  
It'd been like falling in love all over again.

  
After reuniting properly and burning the pieces of paper so no proof would exists of what they'd previously done, they set out to do what they'd whispered to each other that night, while sitting on that soft-feeling rug.

  
It also became their M.O. for every mission, for every time they were put out there to do Hydra's dirty work:

  
1) Rescuing instead of eliminating their target of the day. (Turns out they were both really good at saving people.)

  
2) Set out to make sure it seemed like the mission had indeed been accomplished. (Turns out they were both really good at setting up crime scenes.)

  
3) Pretend that they were still both or individually the puppets Hydra had transformed them into. (Turns out they were both really good at acting.)

  
4) Scribble down and hide their next memory reminders. (Turns out they were really good at knowing where they'd unconsciously look the next time they'd be in the area.)

  
5) And Hydra never saw what was happening right under their noses. (Turns out they'd always been and always would be dumb as hell.)

  
This was how, for example, in 1973, the Soldat was for no reason feeling restless just after landing in Mozambique and had decided to take a late-night motorcycle ride. Somehow, he'd found himself under an overpass, reaching inside a cracked stone, to find a note he didn't even know had been hiding there:

_"Você é meu Soldat."_

  
The long-haired man smiled as he held the paper close to his heart, just like every time their love and their memories were reawakened.

The pair each knew that even if their minds couldn't remember, their hearts and most of importantly, their instincts would do so for them.

And both of these things would always bring everything back onto the surface, reminding them of who they were, what their hearts beat for and their single mission:

  
Countering Hydra's plans from the inside.

  
And so, the "accomplished" missions multiplied over the years, just as the messages of love littered throughout the world did, all in different languages that the both of them knew:

  
_"Դու իմ սալատը ես."_

  
_"Та бол миний цэрэг."_

  
_"Waxaad tahay Soldat."_

  
_"Jesteś moim Kapitanem."_

  
_"あなたは私のカピタンです."_

  
_"Tu es mon Kapitan."_

  
Among others.

  
Yes, this went on for many, many years.

  
Until one cold night, in December of 1991, when their half-a-century plan came to a head.

  
*************

  
The two people were shivering when the car that been chasing theirs came to a stop right beside them.

  
A pair of masked men, one with a literal cowl over his head and another one with what looked like a pair of googles over his eyes, approached the other pair, guns drawn near their heads.

  
"Please, don't hurt us! We have done nothing wrong, please!" pleaded the woman in the passenger seat.

  
"Howard and Maria Stark?" grumbled the man with the googles.

  
"Y-yes?" stammered the elderly looking fellow.

  
"You don't know us, but we know you. We know what you've created and who wants it. They want your heads on a platter for it and they sent us to do the job." the one with the cowl explained.

  
"You...you're going to kill us?" asked Maria is a sobbing voice.

  
The pair standing outside of the car both shook their heads as they withdrew their weapons.

  
"No, what we want is at the back of the vehicle, not in front of it." said the long-haired man.

  
"We want to take down who sent us, but we need your creation to do it. So, that's the deal: the serum for your lives. Do you take it or do we have to crank up our guns again?" added the bearded one of the standing pair, their respective Glock and Revolver shining in the pale moonlight.

  
It didn't even take a second for Howard to make a decision as he got out of his vehicle.

  
"What do you want us to do now?" he asked just after handing the Winter Soldier serum to the waiting men.

  
"Your disappear. You don't make a peep, you don't make a move. You make it seem like you're both dead and you let us handle the rest." said the man in the goggles as he got into the passenger seat of his own car.

  
And, as the one with the cowl over his head got into the driver's side, he added: "When the ice is on fire, that's when you'll know you'll be safe to come out."

  
***************

  
They were now standing in front of a half-dozen people just like them. A Hydra-hired death squad and that had been even before the serum had come into play and inside their veins.

  
They were all practically their children and they proud of them just like every parents would.

  
They held hands as they began their speech:

  
"You can hide in plain sight. You can infiltrate and assassinate at will. You could take down a whole country in just one night if you wanted to." said the Kapitan.

  
Smiling, the Soldat continued: "And yet, you all have decided to fight with us, to help us take back our lives, your lives, our freedom, your freedom. To make them pay for what they did to all of those they dared to call their puppets and most of all, for what they did to the rest of the world."

  
Their hands separated.

  
"So tonight marks the end of their control over us."

  
They reached out inside their pockets.

  
"Tonight marks the first day of the rest of our lives."

  
They each took out a small box.

  
"Tonight we take back everything that's rightfully ours."

  
And they each lit up a match.

  
"And we burn this fucker into the ground!"

  
The gathered group of Winter Soldiers cheered and the now Former Fists of Hydra stared at one another lovingly.

  
Then everyone went to work.

 


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more things change, the more they stay the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it folks, final chapter! Hope you guys like this little work of mine as much as I did writing it. Thanks to everybody who subscribed/kudosed/commented annd bookmarked this. It means a whole lot to me. :)

It was a surprise that _The Stork Club_ was still standing, even after all these years. The orchestra was playing a slow, easy-going song and on the dance-floor, a woman giggled as the man holding her in his arms lead her through the dance that had been promised to her so long ago. Or at least, tried to lead her through the dance that had been promised to her so long ago.

  
"My goodness Steve, even after all this time, you still can't differentiate your right to your left?" Peggy Carter, founder of SHIELD, in her early sixties and still as beautiful and as sassy as ever, laughed at the struggling dancer in front of her.

  
The man in question, red as a beet, was watching the floor as best as he could and tried to not trip on his feet as best as he could.

  
"Hey, it ain't my fault Hydra never taught us how to dance, okay? If you want, I can go get your husband and he can finish the song for me." he said and a hard slap on the shoulder made him look back up.

  
"Steven Grant Rogers! Don't you bloody dare go anywhere! I've been waiting for this moment ever since before the last great war finished and I am going to relish in it. So you stay right in front of me, you try not to fall and you complete this dance, 'got it?" exclaimed Peggy in a huff. For a small, elderly woman, she was still as terrifying as she'd been during her earlier days.

  
The bearded man swallowed as he once again picked the rhythm of the music as best as he could.

  
"Yes. 'mam."

  
And at the bar, sharing a double whisky with the love of Peggy Carter's life, the love of Steve Roger's life couldn't help but laugh as he witnessed the whole ordeal.

  
James Buchanan Barnes raised his glass and, along with the other man, toasted the dancers at the center of the room:

  
_"To promises finally being kept."_

  
*************

  
It had been two entire years since the events of Siberia and a lot of things had changed for the two men at the center of what had been baptized _"The Hydra Revolution"_.

  
They found out and remembered many, many things about themselves and about each other almost the moment they set foot in the grand ole' USA:

  
1) They'd had an actual name. ("Hi, I'm Steve Rogers." "Hello, I'm James "Bucky" Barnes.")

  
2) They'd had an actual family. ("I think I had a younger sister." "I think I buried my mother.")

  
3) They'd grown up only several blocks from each other. ("Wait, your house was in DeKalb?!" "Yeah, why?" "Mine was right on Prospect!" "Well, I'll be...")

  
4) They'd fought in an actual war. ("Who the hell are the Howling Commandos?" "Who the hell is Captain America?")

They also got brand new things along the way:

  
1) A brand new home in Tony's Stark grand estate. ("You two saved my parents' life, I'm forever in your debt. You are all welcomed to stay here as long as you want.")

2) A brand new life in a complete pardon. ("You have been declared innocents of all the crimes you've been accused of, since it's our understanding that you were both under the control of Hydra at the time and none of this was accomplished out of your own free will.")

3) Brand new friends in the Winter Soldiers that they helped bring home. ("So, do any of you have a name that we can call you by?" "Call me Scott." "Call me Sam." "You can call me Wanda." "And you can call me Natasha." Among others.)

  
4) A brand new team. ("So, how about we brainstorm for names..." "How about The Retaliators?" "The Chastisers?" "The team of Super Duper Heroes?" "The Vindicators?" "...The Avengers?" "Oh, me likey that one!)

  
But still, despite it all, holding each other close on the roof the Empire State Building, after the owed dance was finished...

 

"I love you so much, Steve."

  
"I love you so much, Bucky."

  
They pressed their foreheads together.

  
"And you're still my Soldat."

  
"And you're still my Kapitan."

  
They moved together for a tender kiss.

  
And all of that _could_ never ever, _would_ never ever change. 


End file.
